9
Charlotte
Three days later …
The warm breeze blows my fedora off my head, and I scramble across the front deck of the boat to catch it. Caleb is faster and snatches it up before it’s lost to the waves of the ocean. He gently places it back on my head and lingers close to my face.
It's hard to breathe whenever he’s near me; it’s getting worse as time passes. My heart stops when his thumb touches my lips right before he kisses me. He tastes like the Montenegro he’s drinking, but there’s nothing bitter about this kiss—only the few hours we have left.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asks when I lie down on top of him on one of the sun loungers. Caleb rented the boat and hired someone to sail it while we gaze out into the green rolling hills and blue skies. His fingers caress my hips, and his thumb slips beneath my black and gold bikini.
I giggle and cover his hand with mine. “Let me touch you,” he whispers. I slowly remove my hand and allow his fingers to explore. They circle around my inner thighs and below my belly. “So, what time?”
“Mmm?” I ask in a daze, as my thoughts center on his touch.
“Your flight. What time does it leave?”
“Oh. Uh, the taxi is picking me up at noon.”
His middle finger swipes across my clit, and I buck my hips. He waits patiently for me to settle back down onto his lap before resuming his ministrations.
“Do you have a long flight home?”
“Mmm?”
“How long is the flight? Are you having a difficult time focusing on our conversation?”
“Caleb, I have no idea what you’re saying, because I can only think about what you’re doing to me.”
“And what am I doing?”
“You’re driving me crazy, and you know it.”
His chest rumbles along my back and I know he’s laughing even though he contains it well. His fingers stroke harder now, no longer tickling the nub but circling it with vigor.
My head falls back and all I see is blue skies and white clouds. I think I've died and gone to heaven.
Caleb moves faster and relentlessly until I gasp and my body shivers from the tiny spasms racing through me. “That was quick,” he says.
I moan. “You sound pleased with yourself. ”
“I am. And with you. You please me very much, Charlotte.”
I snuggle into his arms and bask in the sun and afterglow. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Pardon?”
“I don’t mean this exactly,” I say, although I sort of do now. “I mean, meet random women on vacation, give them the best sex of their lives, and then go back to work the next week?”
His bicep tenses beneath my cheek, but I don’t look up. Instead, my heart races and I’m not sure if it’s from the remnants of my orgasm or the anticipation of his response.
“I’ve met women on vacation before.”
“Mmm.” I wanted him to answer honestly, but a part of me wanted this to be a unique experience for him, too.
“What about you? Do you meet random people and hook up with them often?”
“This is my first vacation, and I’m from a small town, so I don’t meet random people often.”
“I see,” he says, and shifts his body underneath me.
I’ve made him uncomfortable. The conversation sounds needy even to my ears. I guess I was looking for validation that this was as special to him as it is to me, but that isn’t fair.
“I’m sorry. ”
“About what?”
“I know what this is. We were honest with each other from the beginning. I guess, well, I guess I’ll miss… miss all of this when it’s gone.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
His body relaxes, and he strokes my hair. I close my eyes, relishing every tingle from his touch.
We remain in each other’s arms as the boat pulls up next to the dock. “I guess it’s time for me to go pack.”
“I have a special dinner planned for us. I’ll pick you up at your room at seven. Does that work?”
“I have no idea what time it is now, but I’ll make it work.”
He kisses the back of my hand. The gesture seems antiquated and yet it’s the perfect example of how this entire week has just been a dream, something that would never happen to someone like me under normal circumstances.
My legs are a little wobbly as I climb out of the boat. Whether it was the sea or the man who made them that way, it’s hard to say.
*
At precisely seven o’clock, Caleb knocks on my door. I stare at the sensible shoes I packed and wished I’d brought heels for this last night. I grab the sparkly sandals instead of the flats and give my short white dress a little twirl before I open the door.
“Hi,” I exhale when I see him. He’s wearing a white, short-sleeved collared shirt and long black pants. He has a large gold watch on his wrist and his shoes are leather without even a hint of a crease on them.
“Hi,” he says and pulls a dozen pink roses from behind his back.
Each rose is enormous and without any blemish. “They smell lovely. Thank you.”
“I know you can’t bring them back with you, but I wanted you to have them for our last night together.”
“I love them.”
I put the roses on the bed and shut the door behind us. The pathway is dark, except for some torches along the way. Caleb leads us toward the beach, then turns left. There’s a table set on the sand, only steps from the shore, beneath an open gazebo with twinkling white lights. Rose petals form a walkway toward two chairs covered in white fabric.
I smile and shake my head. “This looks like something out of a movie.”
“They did a nice job.”
He pulls the chair out for me before taking his seat, and we both face the ocean.
“Ah, I feel like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and this will all have felt like a dream. ”
“A lovely dream, though.”
“The best one ever.”
He raises his champagne glass, and I grab mine. “To dreams and the dreamers.”
I clink my glass to his. “I like that,” I say after taking a sip. The sparkling wine tingles across my tongue and throat.
“Are you leaving tomorrow as well?”
“Yes. I have an early flight and must leave the resort by six in the morning. I promise not to wake you.”
“Mmm,” I say and take another sip. “What do you do back home?”
“I manage a few operations,” he smiles modestly at me.
“Ah. I see.” I understand he’s keeping me at a distance. “And do you like your job?”
He inhales and looks out at the water. “I’m good at it. I’ve wanted to do it my whole life. But it’s a lot different from I imagined it would be.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, I thought I would be doing a lot more of this,” he takes a sip of his wine, “but it’s much more work than that. The hours are long, and it can be exhausting. But it’s rewarding and I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”
I smirk and raise my eyebrows. “Sounds a lot like teaching. ”
“Ha. True, true. Do you love what you do?”
I nod. “Absolutely. Even though some days can be bonkers, the kids have so much goodness in them. And on those days when I know I’m making a difference, there’s no other feeling like it.”
“So, it fulfills you?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t long for anything else?”
I tilt my head. “Well, I didn’t say that.”
We both laugh. Caleb takes my hand. “What do you long for, Charlotte?”
I blow out a breath and inhale and exhale slowly. “Wow, that’s a tough question.”
“I know. That’s why I’m glad I asked you and not the other way around.”
“I long for love. Unconditional love.”
He leans back, shocked. “Love?”
I laugh at his reaction. “Why do you look so surprised?”
He shakes his head. “I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. I guess some long-term goals or affirmations.”
I shrug. “I have those, too, but I don’t long for them. If I’m being honest with myself, that’s what I truly want. Don’t get me wrong, I know Charlie loves me, but it’s not the same.” I smile while staring at a wave crashing onto the shore. “I should be jaded after what happened to me, right? I think that, too. But I have this friend named Jane and I absolutely love her marriage with Austin.”
“You have a friend named Jane who married a man named Austin? Are you serious?”
I chuckle, having forgotten how funny that coincidence is after we all laughed about it initially.
“Trust me, it just adds to their disgusting cuteness. But I want that. I want that kind of big love, you know. The kind that sweeps you off your feet and never lets you fall back down. The kind that takes your breath away yet gives you permission to live as you are.”
“I would never have imagined you a romantic.”
“I guess I am.”
“I hope that sort of love finds you one day, Charlotte. You deserve it.”
“Thank you.” I grasp his hand. “What about you? Do you think you’ll ever marry?”
“Me? No, I don’t think so. I never imagined it for myself. I’m married to my work.”
I nod, remembering he said that the first night. Although these days have been pure bliss, he’s not forgotten his work. I’ve awoken from a nap to find him on his laptop nearly every day.
“Well, if it isn’t marriage, what do you long for, Caleb? ”
He rubs his mouth as he stares at me. His brown eyes and lashes soften and nearly close as he thinks about my question.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never stopped long enough to think about it. I’ve only set goals for myself and then move the target when I reach them.”
“Maybe one day you’ll be happy to be exactly where you are.”
He turns away and rubs his mouth again. “Maybe,” he says, but he seems unconvinced about it.
*
A rustling sound awakens me. It’s the lightest sound, but I was barely asleep. “Caleb?” I ask into the darkness, blinking as the room slowly comes into focus.
“It’s me.” His fingers caress my bare arm, and I shiver despite the sheets over my body. My muscles are sore from last night. Neither of us slept as we desperately tried to enjoy every minute together until exhaustion set in.
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mean to wake you, but I wanted to say goodbye one last time.”
We’d said our farewells last night in words, through kisses, and bated breaths, but I understand what he means. One more goodbye.
“This has been the best week of my life,” I say .
“Me, too, Freckles.”
“Freckles?”
“They’re the first thing I noticed about you when we first met, and I kiss them each night before bed.”
I smile. “I like that you gave me a pet name.”
“Yeah. First time for me.”
I smile. His admission makes my heart flutter. This was special for him, too. Even if it’s only a small thing, it means a lot to me. It’s sort of like we both experienced firsts on this trip.
“Take care, Caleb.”
His voice is hoarse, as though the words tunneled through grit and sand. “Goodbye, Charlotte.”
He squeezes my hand, and neither of us let go for a long time. Eventually, he pulls away and my hand falls onto the white sheet. I rub the spot where he slept last night. It’s still warm. I don’t move my hand from the spot until long after it turns cold.
Eventually, I stare up at the ceiling and if it wasn’t for the remnants of his cologne, proving that he’d been there, I’d have thought this was all a dream.